Getting To Know You
by YumiDoesTheMacarena
Summary: Straw Hat Pirates AU, can be read with romantic undertones in places. Oneshot series; each can stand alone but together make a more coherent story.
1. Feeling Super This Week

Hi, I'm Yumi, and this is my first online published story. _Ever. _Which I wrote in the last hour, by the way, so if it sucks I blame my muse. But hey, I always say don't ignore it when inspiration calls; rather, pick up the phone and give it directions to your house! On that note, I may just make a series of this. But that's just because I like the idea, I don't have any concrete plans for another story... And that is the reason for the rating, as later stories may easily contain Zoro and Sanji interacting...

This is an AU fanfiction for the series One Piece written by a fan for fans; I don't own the series. (If I did, Sanji would be the main character and Ace... *sniffles*) I wrote it while listening to Snow Patrol's 'It's Beginnning to Get To Me'. Though this is not a song-fic, as I came up with the idea while listening I'm pretty sure there's some connection my subconcious made... But who knows? (Not I, said the cat...) It's up to you if you want to listen to said song while reading.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

He could remember the first time he saw her. In person, that is. She had seemed so cold and detached in that moment. So ice cold and reserved that he thought he might have been looking at a corpse—but no corpse hummed so intensely with life. She was cruel and apathetic, yes, but beautiful—straight hair so darkly black it seemed blue, olive skin and such refined features... Heavily lidded eyes that could almost be called teal, so deep was their color. Tall, slender almost but for the curves that were so apparent by her body-hugging and ever-so-brief leather dress. Dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes, dark clothes... a dark, shadowed gaze. Haunted even, and when her head was shoved roughly downwards while her body was forced into the open police car, he saw those haunted eyes close in agony. It wasn't at any physical discomfort—her tight control would never allow her to betray something so slight—but it was there for that split second before she disappeared from his view, having fallen on her side roughly with hands cuffed behind her back. It was painfully apparent that the officer had no concern for her well-being, as the dark, goateed man could easily have broken her legs had she not had the sense to pull them inside before they were caught between the door and the frame.

And that was enough to spark his temper.

Down his mallet had gone, landing with a clunk on the concrete garage floor, but he had paid no attention, already striding to where the hat-wearing officer with a small bird pin on his collar stood. The man didn't seem to notice, staring instead down at the woman he had just treated so roughly. His partner however, a passably pretty woman with wire-frame glasses and dirty blond hair pinned up in a business-like bun just below her hat (_Looks like a secretary. Isn't that just super...?_ he recalled thinking) had, and pushed away from the car's blindingly white hood, on which she had been leaning, and asked him what he wanted. He was known to these two: being a binge-shopping(-and-drinking), streaking, 'ex'-gang leader on parole tended to do that to a guy, especially one with brightly colored hair and a large blue star tattooed on each of his forearms. And he knew them, though mostly by reputation. Kali, defender of women everywhere who had no tolerance for any man _except_ the one at her side. Rob, he was called, and that was all that was really known about him... other than his belief in absolute justice no matter the cost and his vehement but quiet support of capital punishment. Rumor had it that he had thrown the switch a few times—and done so without the slightest _shift_ in expression...

Of course, rumor also had it that they were members of an elite force controlled by the government itself, every member of which had a license to kill of course. Rumor said that he himself often ran around in a speedo (which was totally untrue, he just wore swimming trunks a lot because they were comfortable and light...) in addition to being the sole heir to the estate of the greatest mechanic in the world (he wasn't the _sole_ heir...). And, as he later discovered, that the woman in the car was a genius hacker who could read inaccessible files which contained knowledge that could bring down the United Nations... Hey, the one thing he had never said about the city in which he had made his home was that it was boring.

Either way, he didn't put much stock in rumor or superstition. Charity and hard work were the values he put faith in, and he had yet to be steered wrong by the instincts honed by years on the streets. He was a successful businessman of the only breed he deemed worth anything: the owner of his own little company who worked hours just as long as those of the workers he had pulled off the streets. So when those instincts had told him to get that woman out of the car and then get the _hell _out of dodge...

He listened.

And after a slight altercation, he dropped a bloody Officer Rob to the ground and with the help of his... '_employees'_ once reinforcements had arrived... he had broken open the police car, gently extricated the violently protesting woman, and gotten a high-heeled-totally-had-to-be-against-regulations shoe in his face for his efforts. At which point the woman had asked, a chilling note in her voice, that her cuffs be removed, all the while keeping the offending officer in place with a frigidly furious gaze. With a shrug he had set about going through Rob's key ring, which had about seven _infinitesimally_ different keys on it, trying the first five without success. But no sooner than he had triumphantly popped the cold steel bracelets open and pulled them off, she lunged forward and knocked the female officer to the ground with the force of one ear-splitting _smack!_ across her cheek. (Which had proved the super-secret-legal-assassin theory wrong with disappointingly little effort.) Then she slowly moved to stand over the cop who had treated her so harshly before—and in a move that made every male watching cringe and hunker down on himself protectively, swiftly kicked him. (Best as he could remember, his only thought had been a hearty _Ow_.)

And, rolling the unconscious-but-shuddering-with-pain-all-the-same man onto his back with her petite, booted foot, she had knelt down and pulled a slip of paper from his breast pocket. Sitting back, she'd unfolded it and stared for what could have been a second or forty minutes before asking softly if anyone had a lighter. Patting his shorts pocket, he pulled one out and watched as she methodically shredded and burned what he could now see was a contract. The task took long enough that he ordered his workers back to their previous tasks after profusely thanking them for their support. When she had finished her shoulders relaxed, losing tension that he had scarcely been able to see before, and she stood, dusted off her ash-covered hands, and smiled at him in thanks. A small smile, barely visible—but all the same he reached out and brushed away an errant tear as it slid down her cheek.

It was years later now, but still he would never forget that last piece she had destroyed. It'd had two names on it, both handwritten; one in a plain, tight scribble, clearly signed in a rush of efficiency—_Rob Lucci_, it read—and the other in a fantastically flowing script, the last letters of which seemed to have been drawn with a slightly shaky hand. It had been the first time he had seen or heard her name since he was a boy and his foster father had mentioned her at dinner, showing he and his... whatever he was.... a picture of her in that days newspaper.

_Nico Robin_.

* * *

Author's Notes, the format of which is, err... 'borrowed' from Dandy... who, err... 'borrowed' it from someone else as I recall...

_...as the dark, goateed man..._

...Is that a word?

_...the hat-wearing officer with a small bird pin on his collar..._

I couldn't resist. Really. I tried.

_Kali, defender of women..._

Kalifa. "Sexual harrasment!" 'Nuff said.

_...dropped a bloody Officer Rob to the ground..._

Insert contemptuous sneer here._  
_

_...and with the help of his... '_employees_' once reinforcements had arrived..._

I was thinking the Franky Family, but feel free to consider his helpers any number of Water 7 characters.

_...if anyone had a lighter. Patting his shorts pocket, he pulled one out..._

Franky, tell the doubtful masses(?) why you have a lighter in my AU stories even though you don't smoke. "I'd be glad to! I'm feeling especially SUPA this week! ...FRESH FIRE!"

So that's it. Thanks for reading this if you did. Thanks for reviewing if you feel so inclined. Thanks for not reading it if you didn't because at least now my name is getting out there, so to speak... Write... Type...? Ah, whatever. I can't think of anything to add.

[Space that will typically be reserved for responses to reviews.]

_Ja na!_


	2. School, Vegetables, and Racism

Yes, yes, I know. After all this time, _finally_ an update. I bet you forgot this story even existed, didn't you? :) Well, I didn't I've been steadily working out people's roles and how things will work out. Not much is written though, sadly. But all the same, here is the next installment!

By the way, every chapter will be from a Straw Hat or family member's perspective, and every Straw Hat will get one, but not every chapter will be from a different person's POV. For instance, I _know _that Usopp gets at least two. Ah, the benefits of being author's favorite!

Enjoy!

* * *

There were very few times when Usopp resented his heritage. Or his hometown. His father, now, that was another issue entirely, but as he stood in the bathroom he shared with three of the other boys in the orphanage, he couldn't help but clench his jaw as he took stock of the reflection frowning severely back at him.

Dark brown skin. Black curls—truly black, not that half-assed brunette so many girls were parading around town these days despite the ever-beating sun. Big, dark, dark brown eyes with almost feminine lashes. Nose... Well, his nose was a bit long, but so had his mother's been. A large mouth with prominent lips, usually smiling. But no matter how you looked at it... Black.

Usopps fingers tightened on the edge of the sink as he leaned closer to the mirror.

And promptly had his face smashed into it when a small body rammed into his lower back. The was a thud as that same small body slid sideways and crashed onto the floor, flailing legs nearly kicking Usopp's out from under him. Hanging onto the sink for dear life, Usopp peeled his face away from the glass—which he would now have to clean; tomorrow was bi-weekly cleanliness inspection day—he turned and looked at the boy pushing himself up from the floor.

He sighed. "Onion!" Usopp pushed himself away from the counter and crouched down to just below the boy's level. "What now?"

"There's a lot to report, Captain! But first—I can't seem to find my—"

"Glasses," the two finished together, and Usopp reached past the younger boy and pulled his glasses out from behind the toilet.

"Here."

"Thanks, Captain!" Onion pushed himself to his knees, but fell backwards again when he found himself face-to-face with Usopp. "I think Carrot hid them earlier," he cheerily informed Usopp as he moved to put them on, but halted when Usopp coverage his smaller hands with one of his own.

"Onion. Those were behind the TOILET. Wash them off first!"

"Oh yeah. Thanks, Captain!" he said again, then hopped to his feet. Dodging around the still-crouching Usopp, he quickly launched into an explanation of that days adventures. Listening with a smile, Usopp stood and pulled some cleaning supplies down from the highest shelf. He paused halfway through the motion when it occurred to his that just three years ago, he had always needed a stool to reach these high-up supplies, or an adult to do it for him.

"... And then Pepper shoved Carrot off the swing, can you believe it! He got sent to the matron's office and everything, it was way cool!" Spraying the mirror, Usopp watched Onion's reflection take a deep breath, then grin up at him, and felt a twinge of guilt—it was probably his fault that Onion, Pepper, and Carrot had such a taste for trouble. It WAS his fault that everyone called them that instead of their proper names.

When he had first met the younger boys during dinner six years prior, Usopp had looked at his spoon, halfway to his mouth as it was, and back at them. This process had repeated several times until finally the matron had asked what was wrong. His automatic response had been, "Nothing," but after a short pause he had added, "but they look like my soup. See?" and he had then pointed to the slice of onion, green pepper, and the baby carrot balanced on his spoon. Then he pointed to each boy in turn. "He's green pepper. He's an onion. And that one looks like a carrot!" It had been a child's logic that made the observation, and a child's immaturity at having to share the room that had, for the previous two years, been his alone that spurred him on to actually start addressing the new boys by their respective vegetables. But it was the fact that he had been at the orphanage longer than nearly any other child that had caused the other boys to pick up other the inane names. And they had stuck. Everyone save the matron herself had been calling the boys such ever since.

Luckily, the self-proclaimed 'Usopp's Pirates' (though Usopp himself couldn't help but think of them as the 'Veggie Pirates') didn't seem to mind being addressed by the names of the vegetables they most resembled. All the same, it caused a twinge of discomfort and a round of awkward chuckles every time they had soup for dinner.

Usopp was brought back to the past when the other two boys themselves stormed in. "It was not cool!" Pepper protested, fists clenched at his sides. "Now I'm in trouble and I have to do dishes afteer dinner for the rest of the WEEK!" he complained loudly. He turned beseechingly to Usopp and repeated, "The whole rest of the WEEK, Captain! That's-"

"About three days." Usopp fought a smile. "I think you'll survive, Pepper. It sounds like you earned it, too."

"But Captain!" the boy whined. "It's just—"

"Oh shut up," Carrot piped in, bringing his fist down on Peppers head. As the boys began arguing, Usopp noticed several band-aids on his palm, wrist, and fingers. They were plain, just flesh-toned. Usopp replaced the cleaning supplies and pulled out the much lower bin of band-aids'n'things. There were still plenty of superhero ones, as well as Star Wars, pirates, and bugs. Which meant that Carrot had chosen to use Usopp's plain, adult band-aids himself.

It was suddenly hard to swallow past an odd lump that seemed to have grown in his throat. Regardless, he ushered them out of the bathroom and, this time being sure to lock the door, went back to the mirror.

What had he been thinking about? Something that had frustrated him, that he couldn't do anything about... His gaze fell on his school bag.

Oh yeah.

Kaya.

His stomach squirmed a bit at the thought of the beautiful, frail debutante. She was the richest girl in school (so rich she even had a butler!), but didn't really have any friends, even though they were juniors this year. She missed so much school because of her illness that no one ever bothered talking to her much. But they'd had classes together all year, and even sat next to each other in creative writing (which he admittedly had been pressured into taking by his counselor as an attempt to channel his—quote—'penchant for tall tales' into something productive). And, not being the quiet sort, Usopp had started talking to her. Everyday. At first she had been startled, that much was easy to see. But she had looked so confused during the history notes review that during lunch, when he passed the table where she sat, alone, fanatically thumbing through the text book that they didn't even ever really use, Usopp hadn't been able to stop himself from asking to sit with her. And introducing himself. And explaining how the tests usually went, as he'd had the same history teacher the previous year.

The anecdotes, of course, had a few embellishments here and there, but there was no way she could know that. And she had laughed anyhow, so what did it matter? When she pulled out a chair at her table the next day and waved him over, he knew that it didn't. Not at all. Kaya thought he was funny. She liked talking to him. She was also gorgeous, delicate, sweet and polite. In other words totally at odds with him in both behavior and looks.

And, oh, her looks. Kaya was pale; nearly everything about her. Pale, silky-looking yellow hair, so often kept back from her face with a light blue head band. Her clothes was almost always pastels; green, touchably soft T-shirts and light khaki capris or skirts, light pink converse... Her eyes were the only contrast. A rich brown, they practically sparked with life and interest and humor. Her skin was pale, too. Very pale, not just from a life lived mostly hospital rooms, from what she had told him. Her whole family was just naturally extremely light-complected.

Kaya was very, very white.

Usopp was very, very not.

And unfortunately, they lived in the Deep South. And while ordinarily this wouldn't be a problem, Kaya's family was old blood. Very old blood. As in, once had slaves old blood. It was years ago, decades, if not a century or more, but...

Her grandfather still lived in the family home. And there was just no way he would ever let Kaya date a black man. Or even a half-black man, like Usopp. Which sucked, because he was pretty sure he loved her. Like, actual love. Love-love, not like-love. And sometimes he even though she liked him back. Maybe just as much.

He did catch her watching him sometimes. Like, from inside the 3-D arts room as he ran past during laps in Phys Ed. For awhile he had thought she was watching the ever-popular and _very_ French senior who was in Usopps's period—Kaya had mentioned him a few times; they had home ec together first period, so it was plausible. But then one day the upperclassman had been absent and Usopp had still caught sight of Kaya pausing, up to her elbows in clay, and looking out the window.

Surprised, Usopp had slowed to a jog and waved at her hesitantly. She had freed one arm and waved back, then looked away quickly, as though her name had been called. So she was looking for him every day, right?

That had to mean she liked him, right? _Right_? Maybe Usopp could strike up a conversation with the Frenchman; he was a nice enough guy and certainly popular with the ladies, if the gaggle surrounding him while he ran circles around everyone was anything to go by. Yeah! Usopp could get some advice, maybe learn some fool proof moves that would—

Oh, who was he kidding? He didn't even know the guy! And Usopp and Kaya were friends. Just friends. That was all there was to it. That was all there would ever be.

* * *

_...the self-proclaimed 'Usopp's Pirates' (though Usopp himself couldn't help but think of them as the 'Veggie Pirates')..._

Yes, well, thank you 4Kids, for this at least. As I recall. I kept the English names simply because that is how I think of the boys; I am always genuinely confused whenever I see 'Tamagi' or whatever it is while reading. If the reverse happened to you while reading my story (the English names confusing you) than I apologize.

_...the richest girl in school (so rich she even had a butler!)..._

Yeah. That's who you think it is. That's _exactly_ who you think it is.

_...the ever-popular and __very_ French senior who was in Usopps's period—Kaya had mentioned him a few times; they had home ec together...

*nudge nudge wink wink* Oh yeah, he's a _major_ player. And take that however you like!

That's about all I can think of that I had to comment on. Again, my apologies for this being so long. And I finally update with a chapter that's mostly introspection and character indtroduction. Boooring, but I hope it entertained you at least a little. Please, tell me what you think! Do you like this Usopp? I do.

_Ja na!_


End file.
